


Sharp

by IneffableBlue



Category: Naruto
Genre: (i will fill those last two tags by myself if i have to), BAMF Haruno Sakura, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Haruno Sakura-centric, Sakura has anger issues, i love her!!, i realized as i was filling out her abilities that she's just a murderous ninja spiderman!!, realistic ninja
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 13:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11783964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableBlue/pseuds/IneffableBlue
Summary: Sakura has been teased, gotten angry for that, then gotten teased for getting angry. Everything she does isn't enough. But she's observant and slowly she starts to find out that she fits in better in the ninja world than she ever imagined. The best ninja are always thought to be something else and Sakura is a master at being mistaken for harmless.





	Sharp

**Author's Note:**

> hopefully i'll start posting more chapters soon. just know this isn't abandoned (2/28/18). criticism is very good and welcomed!!

As soon as Ami said “Hey forehead girl!” Sakura felt rage start to rise. The familiar nickname tore at her heart. _Nobody could like you, forehead girl. Too ugly for friends._ She closed her eyes and clenched her fists and tried to make the rage and self-hatred go away, but her efforts just added to it and it swirled and dragged at her clothes and clogged her lungs. _Good girls don't fight_ , she reminded herself, desperately. She pressed her back firmly against the tree behind her and tried to channel all of her feelings out of her and into its bark.

“Just gonna sit there, forehead?” Ami taunted, grinning, her teeth sharp and very present and Sakura found herself wondering whether it would hurt if Ami bit her. _Animals bite. Humans don't_ , Sakura reassured herself. Ami took a step closer, her grin still just as wide, a touch of victory in her eyes. Sakura crossed her arms and hunched down, but tucked her fingers into fists. She glared at the grass in front of her and tried to ignore Ami’s taunts through the panic and rage threatening to take over thought. _Don't do it_ , Sakura told herself, but her fists balled tighter and she couldn't sit still as Ami spewed insults through her smug grin. She found herself standing and felt her cheeks pull tight as she shot Ami a grin of her own.

“You’re pretty ugly yourself, grape-head,” Sakura growled, but it came out tiny and high-pitched. Not for the first time, Sakura cursed the fact that she was 5 and Ami was 7 and miles taller and bigger, but Sakura didn't back down. Her fists were at her sides and she didn’t think she could pull them tighter. She glared at the sky to the left of Ami’s head with bubbly fear and tried to ignore Ami’s renewed, unembarrassed taunts.

“Aww, forehead’s mad! Hey guys! Come look at this! She thinks she's something,” Ami said in a sickly sweet voice, looking over her shoulder for her lackeys. They stomped up behind Ami and laughed at Sakura and her tiny, tight fists.

“You think you can beat us up, forehead? We’re going to be _ninja_ and you're just a little civilian. Pathetic.” They scoffed and for a moment all Sakura knew was a comforting blankness in her head and the rush of her forward movement, but suddenly she's been tripped and her forward momentum turned to smash her into the dirt. All three girls standing above her laugh.

“Seriously? She tried to take on ninja? What kind of idiot is this girl…” someone murmured above Sakura, giggles punctuating her speech. Sakura felt dirt scrape her face and felt aches where her skin would bruise. Tears started forcing their way past her attempts to keep them back and she turned her face further into the dirt so that Ami and her friends wouldn't see her cry.

“Is she crying? From that? God, that's so lame. No fun at all,” someone far off to her right commented before breaking into giggles. A foot nudged Sakura’s ribs.

“Sakura! Get up! What are you doing in the dirt?” A familiar voice snapped. “That's a brand new dress, you know. If you got stains in that you're paying for a new one and I won't buy you any more nice clothes until you learn to take care of what you have.” Sakura’s mother stomped over and dragged her daughter up by the arm, ignoring the muddy tear tracks down Sakura’s face. The girls standing off to the side whispered excitedly and giggled. Sakura let her head hang and hid behind her hair, staring at the dirt that matted it. Her mother’s fingers dug like claws into her upper arm and she straightened instinctively as her mother prodded her for an answer.

“Yes, mother. I won’t ruin it.”

“Were you getting into fights again? Let this be another lesson, ladies don't get into fights. All you get out of it is ripped clothes and a ruined reputation.”

“Yes, mother.”

Sakura’s mother shot Ami and the rest of the girls in the schoolyard a narrow look.

“If any of you ninja children had proper manners, the world would be a much better place.” With that, she left, her steps prim, Sakura trailing behind her. The girls giggled and whispered. From a few streets down, Sakura heard an explosion of laughter as one of them said something funny. No doubt, they were making fun of her. Sakura wrapped her free hand around her stomach and hunched down. Her mother’s hand didn’t leave its vice grip on Sakura’s arm until they had passed the threshold of their house.

* * *

 

It had always been a point of discontent within the Haruno family that the closest school to their house was right next to the Ninja Academy. Sakura has always loved it and loved watching the ninja kids through the slats of the fence that separated the yards of the two schools. She loved the shared area in front of the schools a lot less. Her bright pink hair tacked a billboard on her forehead that displayed “tease me!” in neon pink to everyone around her, and ninja children weren’t exactly encouraged to grow up nice. Violence is a part of ninja life and it fascinated and repulsed Sakura all at once. Her parents were very firmly against ninja and hated their “lawless, violent ways.” They constantly reminded her “don't trust them, baby girl.” Her mother punished Sakura for fighting back against bullies and took away privileges and assigned chores, citing that ladies shouldn't fight. Her father muttered darkly at her bruises and skinned knees before turning back to frowning at his newspaper.

Sometimes, Sakura wondered how they would feel if every day they were pushed down and sneered at in the schoolyard. Would they stay so pacifistic or would their fists curl tight and their throats vibrate with the force of keeping their snarls down? Sakura had a wall behind her, pain in front of her, and parents holding her fists to keep her from freeing herself. She could find only one way out.

“Please let me enter the Ninja Academy!” She threw herself down at her mother's feet as her mother came back exhausted from a hospital shift. The air began to freeze, heavy and cold, and Sakura pressed her forehead against the floor and waited, unmoving despite her fear pushing her to run. The rustling of her mother's scrubs stopped as she froze. The sound of her father turning newspaper pages in the kitchen stopped and silence reigned.

Sakura dared to turn her head and look up at her mother through her hair. Slowly, with narrow eyes and wrinkles creasing her forehead, her mother finished slipping off her shoes. She didn't look at Sakura as she headed to the kitchen table and sat with controlled and smooth movements. Sakura scrambled to her feet and nearly tipped over a chair as she tried to pull it out. Her father folded his newspaper with precise movements, his gaze locked on his hands where they smoothed wrinkles from the folds.

“What brought this about, Sakura?” her mother asked, slowly.

“I want to be a ninja,” Sakura repeated. Her parents shifted uncomfortably.

“Now Sakura,” her father began. “Ninja risk their lives daily for their job. They’re required to fight and lay their life down if their village demands it. They’re disposable tools for the village, and often just stupid tools.” He scowled. He worked in law and had handled so many different complaints from civilians about ninja fights and property damage that he could barely stand to look at a ninja.

“Sakura.” Her mother looked sad and lost. “Sakura. You- I- ladies don’t fight.” The phrase was well-worn and faded. To Sakura, the words meant nothing, but the shame usually accompanying them came nonetheless and Sakura looked down, somehow expecting the jeers of the girls from the Ninja Academy to reach her even here.

“Those—those girls,” Sakura started. “They’re ninja.” She glanced up with careful eyes, looking at her parents. “They kick me around and make fun of me and—and I want to be able to… I want to be able to make them stop.” At her parents’ wide eyes she hastily shook her head. “I don’t want to hurt them! I just want to let them know that I can do as well as they can in Ninja Academy. I’m just as good as them! I want to be able to protect myself.”

“Sakura, honey, you shouldn’t start something as life changing as Ninja Academy just because of some bullies…” her mother hesitated. She stood up and wrapped her arms around Sakura from behind, kissing the top of Sakura’s head. “You’ve been growing into such a lovely young lady. You shouldn’t spoil that with this ninja nonsense. This is how you get yourself killed!” She rocked Sakura from side to side, hiding her face in Sakura’s hair.

“Mother, I want to protect Konoha,” Sakura said, hoping she didn’t sound as desperate as she felt. She reached up to grasp her mother’s arms and hold her there. _Listen to me. I just want to prove myself_. “I want to do something big, mom. I don’t want to do a desk job or work at the hospital as soon as I get out of school. I want to do something exciting and I don’t want to be stuck with mountains of hurt people like you have to deal with at the hospital.”

Her mother sighed and she stopped rocking Sakura. “Are you sure, honey? This is a really big decision. I won’t stop you, if this is what you really want.” She looked at her husband, who sat slouched, carefully thinking through the options Sakura had presented him with.

He met Sakura’s eyes and she wanted to wilt, to hide in her mother’s arms. He had never never the closest or most supportive father, but he had never looked so sharp before and it hurt to meet his eyes. Her chest ached.

“I don’t like this, but…” he hesitated. “It’s your life, your decision.” His eyes still stared into Sakura’s and she nodded firmly. _I won’t let myself be kicked around_. “Don’t make a mistake, Sakura. Ninja life is dangerous. You can be killed. Your friends can be killed. None of us want to lose you.”

Sakura nodded. “I know! I’ll be good! I’ll do good and be the best ninja and it’ll be awesome!” She smiled big and didn’t notice her parents flance at each other over her. Her mother moved to sit and rest her head on her husband’s shoulder as Sakura stood and skipped up the stairs to her room, humming, anxiety gone. The kitchen was silent.

Sakura started at the Ninja Academy in the fall and she adored it. She flounced through the doors on the first day wearing a brand new red dress and a determined smile. There was a feeling teasing her during her classes, telling her that nobody took her seriously, but she still loved the books and lessons and all the knowledge she found. It was all lovely through her first year, full of theoretical knowledge of chakra and taijutsu and lectures on ninja history and current relations. There is a whole world beyond the walls of Konoha that she had never considered and she feels tiny. She soaked in knowledge, devouring books and assignments happily.

Outside of the classroom Ami and her friends found Sakura every day at lunch and after school, pushed her and spat poisoned words. Inside of her mind Sakura raged and quivered but outside she sat still with her lip between her teeth and did nothing.

“Forehead girl! Ugly bitch!” the girls jeered. They were seven years old and learning new words to express their disgust every day. One girl kicked Sakura’s thigh.

Another sighed. “She’s getting boring.”

“What do you mean, boring?” Ami scoffed. “Look at her face! That forehead shows her ugly little bitch emotions to the whole schoolyard! She’s almost pissing herself!” The girls laughed so hard that a couple of them collapsed to their knees, dirtying their colorful dresses.

Good girls don’t fight, so Sakura sat. They jeered. Sakura pushed her emotions down, down, into a tiny ball that she could control. Anger went easily. Fear remained, diffuse and involuntary, coloring her eyes and posture so that all of her bullies could see. The bullying got worse, but she did not fight back.

In class, Sakura relaxed. Her classmates only knew her name because of her top-five scores, and when she disregarded all attempts to speak to her, caught in a fearful haze before she could get any words out, they began to ignore her. In class, she was happy. Her confidence in her skill lasted until her second year at the Academy, when they had their first taijutsu practical and her theoretical experience was useless.

She was down with her face pressed into the dirt again and she heard someone snicker. Rage rose, smaller and more muted than it had the last time she was here, and she… deflated. She couldn’t be angry. Good girls don't fight, she knew, but her red dress was stained brown and her hair was in snarled knots and a spar was basically a controlled fight. Her mother had let her go to ninja school, to learn how to fight, so why keep that outdated promise? She was let up and she and her opponent made the Seal of Reconciliation. Sakura returned to the line and waited her turn to fight again. She smiled slightly and slowly let anger spread through her, adrenaline flooding her arms and fingers, making them shake as her turn grew closer. Under her anger, her frustration at being so weak, held for so long, her usual fear was inconsequential.

“Are you really that eager to get beat down?” someone sneered, and Sakura shoot her audience a slightly malicious grin. Energy was rising in her and it sang and whispered in her ear, telling her that someone was going to go _down_ and it was not going to be her. Her fists clenched tight. The teacher eyed her with some amount of concern but called for her to enter the ring anyway.

Her opponent was a skinny girl with brown hair tied back in short pigtails. They made the Seal of Confrontation and the girl fell into a stance that Sakura had never seen before, but Sakura remained unconcerned. Her heart beat fast and her stomach felt coiled tight and she was so _ready_.

She spent the next five minutes getting beat down again. She hit hard and fast, bruising her knuckles, but her anger and adrenaline made her uncoordinated and she forgot her form to the haze. She fell, her face in the dirt.

“What kind of form is that? Little civilian couldn’t take being beat once and forgot proper form?” Sakura could see the girl speaking from where she lay. She didn't move and didn't react. The adrenaline had receded and she felt like someone had scraped all the emotions out of her, reaching the bottom of the bowl and leaving scratched marks. The Seal of Reconciliation seemed to be the most humiliating gesture possible.

After that she kept her head low, avoiding her classmates more than usual and avoiding Ami and her friends as much as possible. _Everywhere I go I'm the weakest_ , she thought bitterly. Her theory grades remained high, but her new practical grades swooped down to join the rest of the civilian kids. Whenever she was caught by Ami, the teasing took a sharper edge as Ami insulted both her looks and intelligence. Sakura sought out the corners and shadows of the schoolyard when they were let out for lunch or after school. With flat grass, exposed for all who wanted to find her, the schoolyard was not someplace she trusted and wanted to stay.

A couple of weeks after her first beatdown, after a day of being caught by Ami in the most public places possible, school let out and Sakura picked a direction and ran. She sprinted, and it only took half a mile for her lungs to feel useless and her legs to lose all feeling but she told herself, _it's all in my mind. I have enough air. My legs aren't tired. I can be strong._ The books in her backpack bumped against the ridge of her spine and she ignored the familiar feeling of a bruise forming. She ran past buildings she couldn't remember and down streets she'd swore she'd never seen before, fighting to keep her thoughts quiet, off of the Academy bullies and off of the pathetic burn in her lungs and legs and the lightness in her head. Sweat began to gather on her back and forehead and it condensed into rolling droplets as she approached the market square. Sakura just had time to recognize that she was approaching from the direction opposite the Academy before she dropped to her knees as they gave out and she frantically sucked in air.

Sweat dripped from the ends of her hair as she stared down at the sidewalk. Only one mile. Any of the other Academy kids could have done better. Around her, the market bustled and people brushed against her as they moved in and out of the square. Nobody looked at her past a quick glance, used to ninja strangeness. She was anonymous and it hurt. Everywhere she went, she was boring enough that nobody cared.

Despite her eye-catching hair, Sakura knew she was nothing special to look at or know. She was not a ninja, flashy and confident and strong, opponents falling around her. She was the bullies’ fallen opponent, shy and dirty and just forgettable enough to hurt without fear of a teacher’s reprisal. Sakura planted her hands on the sidewalk and pushed herself up, and although her eyes didn’t seem to work properly and her head spun she forced her muscles to work and pull her feet under her.

There was determination written in the creases of her eyes and the downward scrunch of her eyebrows as she moved forward. Her legs started working properly as she kept walking. She moved slowly, muscles trembling and her backpack weighing heavily on her back. She needed to improve.


End file.
